Chapter 61

Xie Chang'an stood quietly without making a move.

She could see that the old man's vital flame was about to extinguish, his oil exhausted and his lamp dried up. Even if no one killed him, he did not have two good days left to live.

Once, when she left Chang'an, she thought that one day she would return, place a blade against the emperor's neck, force him to admit his past wrongs, and then make him experience, cut by cut, the agony of those who had died unjustly.

But looking at this man now, she realized that death would instead be a release for him. To live and face the complete stripping of his power, bearing the empty title of retired emperor in this cold palace while lonely remembering past days with not a single person by his side, only to be tormented by palace maids and eunuchs—that was the true, immense torture.

"I am the Emperor! How dare you people act like this! I am hungry, go and bowl some noodles for me. Use chicken broth as the base and put some greens in it."

Having finished his raving, he grew somewhat tired. The next moment, as if forgetting who Xie Chang'an was, he simply treated her like a palace maid to be ordered around.

"Why aren't you going yet?"

Seeing her unmoving, the old man urged her again, not forgetting to touch his temples and smooth his messy hair backward.

Xie Chang'an had no interest in wasting any more time with such an obviously demented old man. She turned to leave, but suddenly raised her head, her gaze piercingly fixed on a certain spot outside!

The next moment, she spun back inside, forming hand seals with her fingers, and her figure vanished into thin air right before the old man's eyes.

The old man stared blankly at this sight, rubbing his eyes as if finding it hard to believe.

When Wan Renshan entered, he just happened to see the old man let out a sharp cry of "Ghost!" and continuously shrink backward.

"Why is Your Majesty acting like this?"

He seemed already accustomed to the old man's intermittent fits of madness.

"It's cold today, so Your Minister has come to check on Your Majesty."

The old man peeked out from behind a pillar, trembling, his face full of fear.

"Where is the Crown Prince? Where is my Crown Prince?"

Wan Renshan replied, "Your Majesty has forgotten. You are already the retired emperor, and the Crown Prince ascended the throne long ago. He is the emperor now."

The old man stammered, "Then... then summon the Imperial Noble Consort!"

Wan Renshan said, "The Imperial Noble Consort died long ago as well—seven years ago. You were the one who sent her off."

The old man's eyes widened blankly, his expression bewildered and absent.

"Has Your Majesty forgotten again? Let Your Minister repeat it for you."

Wan Renshan was extremely patient, yet his attitude was dismissive and casual.

"Your Minister has calculated that you are rotting from the inside and decaying from the outside; there is no saving you now. It will happen within these couple of days. But Your Majesty keeps dragging it out and refuses to go. Your Minister's magical artifact has everything prepared, lacking only the final wisp of dragon aura. I ask Your Majesty to grant this favor to Your Minister."

The old man sat in a daze for a long while before suddenly flying into a rage. "You are also a rebellious subject! I valued Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven and elevated you to the position of Imperial Preceptor—what supreme honor was that! Not only do you fail to repay imperial grace, but you even dare to force the palace!"

Wan Renshan sneered. "Is Your Majesty finally awake? My master died saving the carriage; how is that not exhausting oneself to the very end? We escorted you all the way westward; without Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven, how could you have returned safely to the capital?"

The old man stammered, "You... you..."

Wan Renshan stated, "You have been muddle-headed for half a lifetime. If you were willing to die sooner, it would actually be a meritorious deed."

The old man kept calling for someone, but his breath was as thin as gossamer, and his voice was so faint that even Wan Renshan could hardly hear it. Leaning against a pillar, his complexion pale and ashen, he clutched his chest, gasping for air as he reached out toward Wan Renshan.

Wan Renshan did not move.

He said indifferently, "Even to this day, has Your Majesty not recognized the situation? No one wants you to live, including your children and grandchildren. Otherwise, why has no one come to visit all this time?"

The old man opened his mouth, struggling hard to cry for help, but could not produce a sound.

Veins bulged on his hands, withered and gnarled like tree branches. The instinct to survive made him refuse to give up. No matter how glorious he once had been, or how many people he had caused to die later on, having been an emperor for so long, his heart naturally held only himself. He simply wanted to live, even if it meant lingering on miserably in this place.

Seeing that Wan Renshan refused to bother with him, the old man tried to crawl toward the outside of the hall. Unexpectedly, his foot missed, and his body rolled directly down the steps, letting out a faint moan.

Finally, the body stopped moving.

Wan Renshan watched coldly. Only when the other party truly drew his final breath did he walk over.

A small, delicate censer was placed on the ground, less than three feet from the old man's body.

Wan Renshan formed a hand seal and chanted silently under his breath.

A moment later, a wisp of white smoke rose from the censer, seeming conscious as it searched about, drilling straight into the old man's nostrils.

Xie Chang'an had remained concealed in the shadows without making a sound.

For Wan Renshan to deliberately come in the middle of the night just to use words to provoke the old man, it was absolute certain that he had not come merely to anger him to death.

Until she saw the white smoke circle through the old man's body and flow back out through his nostrils, carrying alongside it a faint, glowing bluish wisp of smoke.

A thought flashed swiftly through her mind. Her breathing hitched slightly, and she suddenly understood what Wan Renshan wanted to do!

He was going to use the late emperor's soul to forge an artifact!

That censer was none the third-part Heaven-Crafting Furnace!

It was precisely during this momentary pause that her aura flickered slightly, immediately alerting Wan Renshan.

"Who is it? Come out!"

The main hall had very few lights, casting faint, dim contours only around the immediate vicinity of the old man, while everywhere else remained shrouded in darkness.

Wan Renshan saw a woman in red step out.

That was certainly not the attire of a palace maid.

Yet he found her somewhat familiar.

"Who are you? I've seen you before!"

He remained completely calm and composed, entirely free of the panic of having his conspiracy exposed.

This was only natural. Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven held a special status, and Wan Renshan, having inherited the title of Imperial Preceptor left by his master, was also the liaison between the Son of Heaven and the immortal sects.

Here, he had no need to fear anyone.

Xie Chang'an slowly said, "On the day you escorted the Son of Heaven fleeing from the capital, someone attempted an assassination in broad daylight and was struck down by you. At that time, you walked up to me and told me to raise my head."

"It's you?!"

Wan Renshan narrowed his eyes, remembering everything completely.

"You're that little palace maid!"

...

Everyone had been cleared out of the Sun family's garden; not even maids or guards were left behind.

The banquet had ended in disarray, leaving everyone panicked and terrified. Tomorrow, the capital would likely gain yet another bizarre ghost story to add to its tales.

Liu Xisheng knelt before Zhou Lanqing, trying numerous methods, yet utterly failing to bring his senior martial brother back to life.

His face grew paler and paler.

Compared to himself, Zhou Lanqing's father was an elder of Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven, and his innate talent was also superior to Liu Xisheng's.

If the two of them went out together, and the one who ended up dead was not himself but Senior Brother Zhou, Liu Xisheng could not imagine what kind of severe reprimand and punishment he would face from the sect.

Yet during the sudden ambush just now, he had not even managed to see what the attacker looked like.

What should he do?

"Idiots."

A familiar voice rang out coldly, and Liu Xisheng raised his head in a daze.

The next moment, his expression was one of shock and awe.

"You... How did you get here?!"

"Don't waste your effort. Zhou Lanqing's life lamp has already extinguished."

The newcomer stood tall and upright, his gaze falling upon Zhou Lanqing.

"His soul has scattered. No matter how you try to summon it, you won't be able to call it back."

Liu Xisheng froze. Scattered?

From the moment the two of them were ambushed, Zhou Lanqing's sudden death, his sending a message to the sect, and up until this person's arrival, at most half an hour had passed. Zhou Lanqing's corpse hadn't even cooled yet; how could his soul have completely dissipated?

The newcomer bent down to inspect the body for a moment.

"Tell me the whole story of how you were ambushed, from start to finish."

At the banquet earlier, Liu Xisheng and Zhou Lanqing had been completely relaxed, believing they were in Chang'an City with the deterrence of Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven backing them, ensuring that no one would dare harbor malicious intentions toward them under any circumstances.

Yet misfortune had struck without the slightest warning.

Zhou Lanqing had a sword pierced straight through his chest, instantly bleeding from all seven orifices and dying on the spot. Liu Xisheng hadn't even had time to react.

Later, Xie Chang'an had appeared, exchanging blows with Li Hentian, which indirectly saved Liu Xisheng's life, before pursuing Li Hentian away.

Liu Xisheng had been in a daze regarding these events, his cultivation far too low to comprehend them, assuming the killer had simply let him off for some unfathomable reason.

But upon hearing this, the newcomer immediately caught the clues.

"There were two factions. One faction killed Zhou Lanqing, while the other faction intervened afterward. That person engaged the killer in combat, which is the only reason you managed to escape with your life."

He stood up and looked around, searching for traces left behind by the killer.

Liu Xisheng snapped back to his senses and remembered.

"Sect Master, a wandering Daoist priest surnamed Zhu has recently arrived in the capital, claiming to be from the Ten Thousand Plum Blossom Pond. He was also at the banquet tonight. Could it be that he was the one who made a move?!"

"The people of the Ten Thousand Plum Blossom Pond died off until almost none were left, and the survivors all concealed their names and went into hiding. Anyone who appears openly can only be someone attempting to assume the identity to lure us out..."

Biyang Jun said indifferently, the needle of the palm-sized compass in his hand rotating as he walked, scattering points of fluorescent light like a dream or illusion.

He had already used this magical artifact to spread his divine sense outward with the Sun residence as the center. If there were any cultivators nearby, even a grandmaster level expert—

Biyang Jun suddenly halted his steps, his expression shifting slightly.

"With Your Excellency's level of cultivation, don't you find that hiding in the shadows beneath your dignity? Why not come out and meet!"

A figure stepped out from the darkness.

The man in white was pure and cold, like an unblemished pine growing on a sheer mountain precipice, untouched by mortal dust.

"You are the Sect Master of Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven?"

Liu Xisheng cried out, "Sect Master, he is that wandering Daoist priest surnamed Zhu!"

Biyang Jun's previously nonchalant expression took on a hint of seriousness.

"What is Your Excellency's honorable surname and full name?"

The other replied, "Zhu Huan."

Naturally, Biyang Jun had never heard of him, but he could sense the faint, imposing pressure emanating from Zhu Huan—an intuition shared only between fellow masters.

"Has Your Excellency seen the killer who murdered my disciple?"

Zhu Huan asked, "Why couldn't I be the killer?"

Biyang Jun replied, "With your level of cultivation, killing them would be as effortless as chopping melons and vegetables; you wouldn't need to resort to a sneak attack. The wound on Zhou Lanqing's body was inflicted by the killer using a diversion tactic while catching them unawares. Such underhanded methods are characteristic only of the true remnants of the Ten Thousand Plum Blossom Pond. If they had a helper like you, they wouldn't have been wiped out overnight back then."

For him to break precedent and say so much to a stranger was also driven by a desire to value the other party and avoid making an enemy.

Zhu Huan said, "The killer has already fled, heading toward the southwest."

Biyang Jun nodded, in no particular rush to give chase.

"Many thanks. Hearing my disciple mention just now that Your Excellency has been walking about the capital also using the moniker of the Ten Thousand Plum Blossom Pond—is this true?"

Zhu Huan answered, "Indeed."

Biyang Jun asked, "Why?"

Zhu Huan replied, "Naturally, to lure you out to meet me."

Biyang Jun narrowed his eyes, leisurely putting away the compass in his hand.

"You lured us out, and then?"

Zhu Huan stated, "I have recently broken through my realm, and my cultivation is unstable. I need an opponent of equal strength."

Biyang Jun was amused into laughter. "Do you take this sovereign for a sparring post?"

Zhu Huan's eyes flickered with a faint radiance in the night.

"I originally thought the highest cultivation in Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven within the capital was the Imperial Preceptor Wan Renshan, but I never expected to be able to wait for you, the Sect Master. I heard that you advanced into the Martial Immortal realm two hundred years ago, and your cultivation is not much inferior to Zhu Xuanguang."

So he was simply a martial arts fanatic.

Biyang Jun said, "I have matters to attend to and do not wish to spar with you right now. If you wish to find an opponent, I can help arrange for Wan Renshan to meet you later."

Zhu Huan insisted, "No, Wan Renshan's cultivation is definitely not as high as yours. I want you."

Biyang Jun's expression darkened slightly.

"When I make a move, it ends in either death or crippling injury. Have you thought it through?"

With a reverse of his palm, a silvery-white blade materialized.

Though called a blade, its shape resembled a sword more closely, akin to a Tang saber.

Mount Nanyue Grotto-heaven was a martial cultivation sect, meaning its members were not restricted to any single weapon, unlike sword cultivators who used exclusively swords.

Zhu Huan's eyes lit up, his cold expression instantly coming to life.
He felt an oppressive might and the fighting spirit of meeting a match head-on rushing toward him.

The Zhu Huan sword within his body vibrated silently, as if longing to leap from its scabbard at once.

Biyang Jun's expression also gradually grew solemn.

"Who on earth are you?"

Even before the opponent had made a move, his *Xunlong Buzhi* blade was already sensing the sword intent and letting out a clear, resonant hum in his hand.

How many years had it been since he last experienced this?